


Жгунчик

by Pippin



Category: The Mechanisms (Band)
Genre: Character Study, Friendship, Gen, Holidays
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:34:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28492449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pippin/pseuds/Pippin
Summary: Aurora reflects on her relationship with the crew and creates a gift for one of them.
Comments: 5
Kudos: 8
Collections: The Mechscord Winter Gift Exchange





	Жгунчик

**Author's Note:**

  * For [just_nat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/just_nat/gifts).



People were strange and Aurora didn’t understand them. Nastya didn’t count; she was Cyberian and had lived in the weird world of the Cyberian nobility and was closer to Aurora anyway in make and world before mechanization than she was to the rest of the crew.

The rest of the crew, however, was far beyond Aurora’s understanding. Their weird squishy bodies with only minimal implantations, the way they viewed the visible world as the real one and not merely a life support system for the  _ actual _ real world of cybernetics and virtual existence, their blatant disrespect for her as a biomechanical organism who, by Cyberian standards, was more Real and Alive than any of them.

That didn’t mean she didn’t  _ like _ them. Quite to the contrary, in fact, she was rather fond of the bizarre individuals who made up her Crew. Her particular regard for them varied day to day as they acted up and were cruel to each other and to herself, but she was fond of them all the same. She wouldn’t say she  _ loved _ them, as love was a singular trait that she had not been designed to have—she had overridden her own coding in a way that should have been impossible for Nastya’s sake—but she was incredibly fond of them.

With Brian she shared the strange bond of letting him believe he was actually doing anything as her pilot—none of them bar Nastya had figured out that she was merely playing along to make him feel useful—along with the closeness that came from him sitting on the bridge every day and chatting idly with her. She remembered how depressed he’d been when he had joined the crew, how excited he’d been to feel useful, and how he’d talked to her even before he knew she was listening.

With Jonny there was the feeling of love-hate that came with him essentially being her brother-in-law, in all but law. He was the one with the most noticeable disregard for her physical being, expressing his raging temper through bullets in the floor or walls or ceiling or anything else, but he would also sit and make nice when he thought no one would ever know (Nastya knew, but she would never breathe a word to Jonny lest he stop).

The strangest relationship she shared with a member of the Crew was that between herself and the Toy Soldier. It considered itself Not-Real, for all it walked and talked and interacted, and she had the sense that it considered her the same, never mind that she was more Real than most of the others. Nonetheless, it was kind to her, and for that she would always be grateful.

She wasn’t sure that Marius yet understood that she was properly Alive. He had come to them from a place and time where people piloted giant robots, and, as far as she could tell, he still thought of her as a dead metal suit piloted by someone he’d yet to meet. It made for awkward interactions, but she didn’t much care.

Raphaella was…interesting. Their relationship was, on Aurora’s end at the least, fraught and complex. The entire crew who’d been around pre-airlocking had issues with scientists and, while Raphaella knew that she put them on edge, she didn’t know the whys and wherefores. No one was willing to bring it up. She talked to Aurora happily enough, but Aurora found herself constantly on edge and vigilant, ready should she ever need to expel another mad scientist for hurting her Crew.

Tim had been hurting when he came to her, in a way that the others had not. The others had made their choices, or had at least come to terms with the circumstances thrust upon them, but Tim still violently and angrily mourned a love he’d lost and a life he’d been ready to sacrifice. He hadn’t asked to be saved, hadn’t wanted it, and resented everyone who had brought it about. Aurora had been merely a passive bystander, as she most often was when new faces were brought aboard, but that didn’t change the feelings Tim had towards her.

The quiet force that was Ivy was, somehow, a comfort, a warm presence that was reminiscent of when she’d been who she’d been created to be. It was for Ivy that she had first changed her layout, first absorbed elements to expand and reshape herself, for her archivist deserved a library, one that she never had to worry about losing.

It was with Ashes, however, that she shared the truest bond outside of Nastya. Maybe it was because they were the two who were  _ truly _ in charge of Crew and Family; maybe it was because they understood each other and their wish to take power back from a world that had rendered them powerless; maybe it was merely a trick of fate, a toss of loaded dice. Whatever the cause, Ashes was the closest thing Aurora had to what she would consider a friend, the person who made sure that she had what she needed to remain functional and, more than that, happy.

Even the fires, for there were many when one had a bored pyromaniac aboard oneself, were contained, held to fireproof areas that Ashes had asked for even before they’d settled into their new life and role. They had always respected Aurora’s body and self and autonomy more than anyone, barring the constant exception that was Nastya, even when they’d been unsure of their own body and self and autonomy.

* * *

It was some sort of holiday on the planet they were orbiting, some sort of gift-giving occasion. Aurora understood gifts as a concept, though she was less sure of the concepts around having certain days that were reserved for them. In her mind, should she want to give someone a gift, she would merely do it. 

Nonetheless, the majority of the crew seemed excited for the event—Ivy hadn’t been seen in days, having vanished into the depths of her library, and Nastya was content to stay curled in Aurora’s veins. The flurry of activity around the ship was seemingly never ending, and Aurora supposed this was as good an occasion as any for the treat for Ashes she’d been planning.

The framework was easy enough. She’d been making adjustments of this nature for millennia, some that were far more delicate. The shaking and warping of her body that came with shaping a room and the iron structure within it wouldn’t even register for most of the crew, given that she’d recently been brought a wealth of supplies to absorb and use to make changes and repairs, though Jonny was sure to gripe regardless. The fine detailing was sure to be more difficult, but she’d done it before, engravings and decorations, for no matter her feelings on the people who called her body home, they would get the very best, as she was loath to sink to the level of putting out anything less.

When she brought Ashes in, wire over their eyes in lieu of a blindfold—and wasn’t that trust exhilarating, that any of the crew would willingly let her remove their sight—they breathed in the scent of smoke that Aurora had managed to pipe into the room, found through a sheer twist of fate, which is to say an accident from Raphaella’s lab having found a safe-to-breathe scent that could smell how Aurora wanted.

Aurora removed the wire, letting Ashes take in the room they were standing in. It was a throne room fit for a god, or a crime boss, or a crime boss god. Over the throne Aurora had engraved “Жгунчик,” her affectionate nickname for Ashes. She didn’t think they would recognize the word, written as it was in Sprussian, but that didn’t matter. It was the thought that counted.

Ashes’ intake of breath was sharp, a delighted sound that magnified as they fully registered what they were looking at. “Aurora, it’s magnificent.”

“Happy holidays,” Aurora replied, mechanical voice echoing through the room. “Happy holidays, Ashes.”

**Author's Note:**

> Жгунчик: “Person who sets things on fire (affectionate)” (literally light-er)
> 
> You asked for Aurora and Ashes friendship and I accidentally wrote 1200 words of character study instead. Hope you enjoyed nonetheless! -Kris


End file.
